Among the Air
by SoftlySweptAway
Summary: With time and patience, the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown.


I rolled the balls of my feet over the edge.

Staring into the vast rolls of earth in the southern Meridian planes, I felt the wide berth of the canyon wind howl behind me. It swept through the locks of my hair tangling tiny subtle knots. The wind whistled a playful tune through the canyon, echoing in my ears. I didn't have to turn to acknowledge the steep cliff behind me. I didn't have to stare down into the deep Cliffside to know it was there. Instead I merely felt its calming presence behind me, the air tickling the back of my neck.

This was peace.

Idly rocking the back of my body over the edge of the steep canyon cliff did contain a certain rush, but the rush of the wind on my back was and indescribable pleasure.

I suppose my grandmother was right about me all of those years ago. When I was a child, long before I ever knew of Kandrakar or W.I.T.C.H, my grandmother had often likened me with the air.

"_You are a fierce little wind spirit." _ She would say with a smile in her voice.

I still remember when first said those words. We were sitting in the living room making small paper lanterns made from rice paper. My teacher had asked all the kids in class to bring in something for show and tell the next day, something we had made with our own two hands. Grandmother had suggested the paper lanterns and I eagerly agreed. We sat down together at the old wooden table in the living room, surviving the wear and tear of time. My own father had sat at that very table when he was young, swinging his legs from under his chair, not quite big enough to reach the ground. My own legs swung underneath my chair, my hands struggling with the lantern. Grandmother watched me bemused as I struggled to fold and press the rice paper into its correct form. Inevitably I became frustrated by the whole ordeal and pushed the would-be lantern away from me in a huff.

"Grandmother this is too hard!" I whined.

Even though my grandmother had instructed me how to properly craft the lantern, she refused to do any of the work herself, believing that I should make the lantern from my own merit. I knew asking for help was pointless but I tried anyway. I whined and pleaded for her to help me, but she merely smiled her mysterious smile and said to me;

"_With time and patience, the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown."_

I was young then and didn't comprehend her words. I had heard many an old Chinese proverb from grandmother, as well as from my parents, uncles, and aunts. Often when I did something wrong. But that day instead of rolling my eyes at 'adult wisdom' and refusing to comprehend, like most children do, I asked Grandmother what she meant. That day it was just grandmother and I at that table and it took many years after to realize what a precious moment that was for me. Often moments of the past are cherished only when the person you have shared it with is gone.

_"It means my little Hay Lin that it takes time to accomplish things. Everything worth doing takes time and perseverance. The mulberry leaves, which the silk worms feed on, take time to be digested and turned into a single string of silk. But with many leaves and many worms, that small single thread of silk grows, becoming hundreds and thousands of threads of silk. When all of the threads are carefully crafted together, you make a beautiful gown._

Grandmother then folded her arms and smiled at me from across the table, waiting. Still a bit confused but understanding the gist of what she had said to me, I picked up the rice paper and tried again.

I must have struggled at that table for some time for Grandmother had excused herself to make tea, probably to calm my nerves. It was frustrating work. I couldn't seem to get the rice paper to bend to the proper shape, the edges bent awkwardly at the crease. I unfolded the paper and tried again.

After many folds of the paper, a crooked looking lantern was finally made. Putting the bamboo sticks properly into place had been the most challenging, but it had to be done right to give the lantern proper structure. Finally, my awkward little lantern was complete. Grandmother came back with the tea just in time to see me finish the lantern. She smiled at me again, the wrinkles creasing at the corner of her eyes. I turned to her and locked my gaze with her, waiting.

_"Why my little Hay Lin, you are quite the fierce little wind spirit!" _She exclaimed.

This was not the praise I had been expecting and my disappointment clearly showed on my face and Grandmother quickly explained.

_"You have accomplished your goal little one." _She calmly explained.

_"You have woven your strands of silk together tightly and wonderfully so. See how the lantern breathes?" _She whispered pointing to the lantern.

"But Grandmother a lantern can't breathe, its not alive." I said confused and becoming frustrated from the absurdity of it all. Grandmother wasn't making any sense.

"_The lantern is not but the air is. The air is what grants the lantern life." _

Grandmother explained.

"_So the air is alive?" _I asked dumbly a little unconvinced.

"_Yes my little one it is. But only to those who hear its whisper." _

Grandmother then picked up her small cup of tea and said nothing else. I followed suit, feeling the warm liquid broth flow down my throat. We sat there at that old rickety table for some time when Mom and Dad finally closed the restaurant for the night. They looked at my small lantern with pride…and curiosity.

"Mother it is a wonderful lantern but I don't think Hay Lin's teacher will let her light a flame." My dad said with a hint of disapproval in his voice.

Mom agreed as well.

"It's a fire hazard." She said.

"Without the heat from the flame it cannot fly." She said with a frown. I myself frown as well. All that time spent on my lantern, wasted. I turned to Grandmother my eyes begging her to explain. Grandmother merely chuckled at the drama of it all.

"_It won't need a flame." _She assured to my baffled parents.

"_It has the breath of the air and the spirit of Hay Lin. It will fly." _

Grandmother smiled an assuring smile and excused herself to bed.

That night I lay awake tossing and turning, worrying about my small little lantern. How could it fly without a flame?

"But grandmother's always been right." The sensible part of me reasoned.

"Perhaps it will fly."

Still my heart was filled with doubt.

I slept fitfully that night, the howl of the wind roaring through my open window still.

Morning beamed its cheery morning rays of light through my window and it was off to school. I sat at the seat of my desk nervous. Irma had already presented her painting of watercolors, the only art she was really good at she insisted. The hues of purple and blue swirled together elegantly. I clutched my frail lantern nervous.

"Hay Lin?" My teacher called from the front of the room.

"It's your turn to present."

Shaking, I got up from my seat and made the long journey to the front of the class.

"I made a rice paper lantern." I started lamely, nervous from the multitude of eyes fixated on me.

"They are traditionally used as symbols of hope and good luck." I explained fidgeting in my spot.

"The flame of the lantern creates hot air, causing the lantern to rise. Many lanterns are released at night to help represent light among the dark." I explained trailing off.

The class was silent and I fidgeted some more during the awkward pause.

"That's all very well and good Hay Lin, but you do know you can't set a flame inside the lantern, its dangerous." My teacher said carefully from her desk.

"I know that, but this lantern won't need a flame." I replied although a hint of doubt could be heard in my trembling voice.

I stalked over to the window still, unlocking the rusty lock and pushing the window open. A light breeze flowed inside the classroom releasing a scent of autumn freshness into the room. In the moment before I set my lantern ready, I couldn't help but feel that this was some sort of test. A small nagging feeling tickled the back of my neck. I wasn't exactly sure what this was about but I remembered my grandmother again. My grandmother so full of wisdom and mirth, who seemed to know everything there was about to know about the world said that my lantern would fly. She said with laughter that I was her precious little wind spirit and the small crooked lantern that I made with my own two hands would surely fly.

I took a deep breath and released the lantern among the air.

I rolled stood at the edge of the cliff at peace with the world, my toes the only things keeping me connected with the cliff side.

My teacher was amazed that my small little lantern was able to fly. The small autumn breeze had carried my small crooked lantern high above the classroom, floating with a lazy gracefulness only the air could master. Kids reached from their seats trying to grasp my small lantern, but it floated above their fingertips taunting them. It lazily circled the room with an elegant dance. Bobbing up and down gracefully among the air current. It finished its coy dance and came back to me, settling itself neatly back into my hands. I can't recall the reactions of my teacher or my classmates in that moment although I assume it was something alike to a pleasant surprise. I could only beam at my small little lantern and thank the wind which had given it life.

Now I casually stood onto the tips of my toes among the edge of the canyon, waiting. I had told Will this morning that I needed a day to myself. I needed her to create a rift and send me to Meridian to think. Will knew me too well and knew it had something to do with my Grandmother without having me say anything at all. She told me she'd retrieve me at sunset, trusting that if anything went wrong I could take care of myself. Without the heart to make a return portal or transform me, I stood with my back to the steep cliff side, smiling as I remembered Grandmother.

She had passed many years ago. Worn with age and time. But even now I could remember the way she smiled her wise smile to me, the crinkle of skin made in the corner of her eyes. I remembered what she had taught me, how she believed in me even when I was so young and couldn't possibly understand the journey I was to overcome in the following years. Even with all of my doubts Grandmother believed in me. She believed that one day I would become the true bearer of the Auramere of air. She knew that I carried the spirit and trust to bear its power, like she had done before me so many years ago.

I smiled into the vast rolling hills of the Meridian planes as I felt the breathe of the wind tickle the back of my neck. Grandmother might not be among the living but she was still with me. Still guiding me on my journey of life smiling so far away in the depths of Kandrakar.

I smiled too as I leaned back away from the cliff side trusting the wind to catch me as I fall.


End file.
